Outsider- The Fate of Kingdoms
by kkrraakk
Summary: When a Judge sleeps, he dreams of our world. When the member of this mythical race is summoned by a desperate Elsa, what will an embittered man with memories of another world do?
1. Chapter 1- The Fate of Kingdoms

**A/N: Well, welcome to the reboot of Outsider. I lost my muse on the original, and after reviewing it, I see why:**

**My main OC was a creeper, and I was also **_**way too far**_** into my "Gary-Stu" phase. I mean, I like the idea of an overpowered guy stomping through an army, but for the **_**love of god, **_**WHAT was I THINKING with the original?**

**Also, my big-baddie I introduced? You don't **_**even**_** want to know what BS I had in mind for him originally.**

**Anyway, please enjoy the awesome that is…**

**Fate of Kingdoms**

**(Book 1 of the Outsider trilogy)**

Arendelle was at war.

It actually had been, essentially, since the Great Freeze- although the open warfare only came about in the last year or so. Weasel-town, angry with the cut trade with Arendelle, had decided to take the matter further. For months, they tried tactic after tactic to try to get the Queen to open up negotiations, but were rebuffed at every turn with firm denial. After a year of trying this failed tactic, they turned to another, darker method.

Assassination.

Attempts became the norm rather than the exception for a great while, yet the attentiveness and sheer determination of the Royal Guard deterred over half of the attempts, and the Queen herself dealt with the remainder with insulting ease. Weasel-town kept at it, believing that eventually one would get lucky.

They were right, but didn't get the outcome they wanted. The Princess, not the Queen, was wounded in the attempt, and the Assassin was caught- frozen solid except for his head, without access to his suicide kit. He was interrogated, and unfortunately for Weasel-Town, the Council of Arendelle declared war.

Not the Queen, but the council. This meant that the coming war became private- no allies were to aid either side, lest they be attacked by the others for breaching the rules of the war.

Arendelle had nothing to fear from this; they had strong allies in Corona and Berk, while Weasel-town, due to their backstabbing politics, had only a few smaller nations behind them.

Therefore, Weasel-town decided to pull a fast one. A massive armada was launched from their shores, and Arendelle set themselves for a blockade against a similar sized force.

The ships never arrived; the spies that are a distasteful, but integral, part of any government missed the fact that the fleet, while disguised _outwardly_ as warships, were in fact troopships.

They landed upland of Arendelle, and marched on the city.

Two and a half years after Arendelle gained Elsa as Queen, they were ready to be overrun by an invading army.

They were desperate; _incredibly_ so…

And this is where our story begins; with one, simple, question born of desperation.

"Grand Pabbie, is there anything that can help Arendelle survive?!"

….

"Yes, Queen Elsa, but it is a gamble and a weight I would not council unless we are truly desperate."

"Please, I _must_ save my people- I care nothing for myself in this."

"… Alright. I will tell you the story about the origin of the Judge, and you shall make your decision."

It is said that at the beginning of time, the first God appeared; the one known as Onæ. From his imagination, the first two Worlds came into being- the world of Gods and the world of Men. In his thoughts, the first of the new gods came into being, all parts of his essence given form.

Færl, the God of impulse and fire.

Zeloist, the Goddess of control and ice.

Likaan, the God of Body and Matter-

And Jelsok, the God of Mind and Aether.

These four spent untold eons simply discovering what they could do and simply doing whatever struck their fancy, in turns laying waste to their world and restoring it to unreal beauty and harmony. Finally, after an eternity, they discovered the world of Men, and took a keen interest.

Zeloist, always the aloof one, simply decided to create a home for herself in this new place- one at the top of the world, and soon after arriving, made another for the other Gods, that one being at the bottom.

Jelsok, the one God who felt like he could connect with the 'lesser beings' went among them, gifting the young race of Man with the power of clear thought and granting them souls, that indefinable _something_ that drives true life.

Færl, being the hotheaded one, also took an interest in the young race of man, and gave them the gift of fire and drive, enabling them to move from being apes towards building a much greater fate for themselves.

Jelsok and Færl, both having done what interested them, returned to the World of the Gods to resume their antics there, with Zeloist following them after curbing the more _base_ impulses of man with the gift of self-control to offset the wild ambition that Færl had thrust upon their minds.

However, Likaan was far more enamored with the race of man than the others, and sought to create more diversity, more variety in the world, and therefore created the other races, pulling traits from Man in unequal quantities for them.

He first created the Trolls, the Stonekin. He pulled from his own power, and gave the rock itself life and movement. Upon them, he bestowed the largest gift of Love of any race besides the Humans, but at the cost of Control of their fears.

Second, he created the Zepheyr, the Airkin. From his own power, he shaped the winds and gave them Drive and Souls- but no Control, making them the race that eternally devotes itself- even to this day- to keeping the world itself alive, for what survives without air?

Third, and in most tales last, he created the Dragons, the Firekin. From his own power, he bound fire and rock into shapes of wings and scales, granting them the most odd mixture of traits- A Love for Gold, an affinity towards Fire, with great, inquisitive Minds and Drive to match… but no Soul or much Control at all.

Most retellings of the origin leave off here- but I, as one of the oldest trolls alive, know of the final race.

Fourth, and his most telling gift, he created a race. Not from existing things in the world, but sprung from his own Power, forever weakening himself in the action. He created this race with all the gifts of man in equal amounts, with two odd differences- their Drive was towards the balancing of the world, making it their purpose to enforce it.

And their final gift? Control. The gift of Zeloist ran so _incredibly_ strong in them that it mixed with his own severed power, making this race more physically powerful than any other- easily able to dominate the other races, if they so choose.

And yet, they would have the Love to feel for others, the Drive to act on it, the clear thought to plan, and the Soul to help them be _more_ than their parts.

They were known as the Judges, and there are only ever five.

Onæ, most of his being back on one world, began to reawaken, pulling Likaan back to the world of the gods, none of them to be seen again. But, I digress.

Every generation, one Judge could be summoned from the æther by a leader of a Race, to resolve conflict between them or other races. Each time they were summoned, their minds were wiped clean, all the better to live and learn alongside the other races and fix the imbalance. When they would die, from battle or natural causes, their memories were restored, and they returned to the æther.

For the first age and a half, they were summoned a few times, mostly to mediate minor disputes or small squabbles over resources.

That didn't last. Soon, Judges were being summoned every decade to protect the world from the one race without enough control to curb their impulses. Dragons were over-running the others, and time after time the Judges stopped it.

Until one clever dragon, using all his intellect and drive, created a way to _permanently_ kill Judges.

The first three were murdered brutally, but not before leaving a warning for the fourth and fifth, enabling them to rally the races and finally eliminate the dragons altogether. The dragons you hear about now? They are nothing more than pale ripples of their origins; they are mere beasts to what the original race was before the last Judges felled them.

But even this victory was not without a price. The fourth was ended by the last Dragon, never to return to the æther. Saddened beyond the limits of his sanity, the fifth gave one last ultimatum to the world before leaving.

"I will help in dire need- it is my nature. But do not take me for a gentle change- I am the last Judge; the final Tribunal. I will enforce the balance wherever I am needed."

"Without mercy or regret."

This was over a millennium ago; for the race of Man, they might as well have never existed. For us Tolls, they are a legend- except for me. I was there when he issued his last words, and I know how you can summon him to judge your situation… but you may not like his ruling.

Elsa was silent for hours after hearing this tale, thinking and panicking over what was upon her people's doorstep, and wondering if she could unleash something so ancient as a Judge upon the world.

Finally, she headed back to the Troll enclave.

She had made her decision; she would live with the consequences.

"Grand Pabbie, teach me how to summon the final Judge."


	2. Chapter 2- Summons of a Queen

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or any other themes/characters that may appear in this.

**Fate of Kingdoms**

Chapter 2: Summons of a Queen

The required preparations were made swiftly; the Troll's communal clearing was rapidly converted into a rune-covered summoning circle. Pabbie was running all of this off memory, and an old one at that, so he wanted EVERYTHING to be perfect.

It had to be; otherwise, Arendelle was going to fall.

Pabbie initially sent Elsa home to rest; there were things to do that she couldn't help with. For hours the troll tribe toiled, etching archaic designs into bedrock, clearing away snow and moss, generally reforming the clearing into something not seen for more than a millennium. Grand Pabbie oversaw everything, from the smallest sigil to the thickest outer line. He was a harsh taskmaster, even going so far as to send a few trolls away as he had felt they weren't taking the job seriously.

It took hours- the work was simple, but time consuming. The paint for the circle had to be made from specific plants and ores to withstand the magic; the circle had to be sharp and precise. The elder Troll was constantly finding small errors. Some he fixed himself, others he just had redone by the one assigned to it. A day and a half passed in preparation, and the sun was waning when Pabbie finally sent for the Queen, as they were nearly done.

At long last, they were finished; Pabbie had finally given his OK- only after adding something himself, though. He straightened up from his bent-over position, and called Elsa to the circle- she had arrived just as they were finishing. She walked over quickly, accompanied by Anna and Kristoff. They had heard of her plan- well, Anna heard it from Kristoff, and it went from there. As they approached, an argument could be heard.

"Elsa, don't you think you're being a bit hasty here? I mean, summoning an ancient entity from the far past that leaves threatening last words as his legacy? Seems sketchy to me, and I grew up with rock-people!" ranted a concerned Kristoff. In the silence following his comments, Anna added her thoughts as well.

"Elsa, I trust you- the Trolls do, too. But still, is there ANY way to save Arendelle otherwise? Seriously- this seems… off. All these designs and magic stuff give me the heebie-jeebies!"

Elsa responded as they walked the last few feet through the ominously silent geyser fields. "Anna, I already thought through that. The fleet is too far away to recall, and the home guard isn't even close to large enough to repel a force like the invading one- not even enough to delay it while the fleet sails back."

Anna retorted; "But Elsa, what about your powers? They could stall them something fierce! You could freeze the whole-"

Elsa rounded on her sister, an intense look of mixed anger and fear marring her otherwise beautiful features. "Anna, even if I had the power to do that- and I don't think I do- I wouldn't. The idea of taking so many lives... it's just…" Taking a deep breath, Elsa steadied her nerves and finished her words a bit calmer. "No, Anna, I can't. This is the only way. I know it's a gamble, and a big one, but we have nothing to lose." Raising a hand to forestall Anna's incoming retort, she turned to Kristoff. "Kristoff, Pabbie asked that I do the ritual alone with him, so would you please take Anna down the trail and wait with the horses? I don't want either of you hurt."

Solemn, Kristoff gives her a wordless nod and guides a protesting Anna back down the path, leaving Elsa alone at the entrance to the Troll clearing turned ritual circle.

Nervousness causing tendrils of frost to creep up her ice dress, a frightened but determined Ice Queen enters the clearing to begin the summoning, Pabbie joining her. As she looks to him in askance, he holds up his hand to forestall her questions.

"Queen Elsa, I had an idea for this summoning. It would be… disadvantageous to have to bring a stranger up to speed on both our customs, so I added a memory array to the circle. It will give the Judge his old memories back when he arrives. I only hope that it works as planned- otherwise, well, it would be the same as bringing him up from scratch."

Elsa frowns, thinking over his words. "Well, you have a point, but I hope it works. We really have no other choice."

Steadying herself and taking a bracing breath, she nods to Pabbie who takes this as his cue to begin. "First, my Queen, you must channel your power to this rune- here-, and then we will begin the chant. Good, your magic energized the array nicely. Now, repeat after me…"

Meanwhile, in 'our' world…

I was walking home from a less-than stellar day at work when I was yanked from my life.

Oh, that's right- you don't know me, so I guess I should introduce myself- this is half my story, after all. Name's Mathias. I know, weird in this day and age, but it fits me in a way that I can't seem to fit to words. Almost like I had it before I was born. Yeah, wacko, huh? Anyway, a bit of backstory for me here. I'm adopted, for one- the orphanage just found me on their doorstep one day, and kept me after due diligence in finding out about my parentage. My opinion? If they left me, they either had a good reason, or I wouldn't want to know them in the first place, so I'm at peace with it. Growing up wasn't the best, but it also wasn't the worst. Well, I guess that's because I was always strong. Not mentally, although I would like to flatter myself and say I have an unbendable will and all that, but in the literal sense.

I was, to quote my pediatrician, a medical mystery. At age five, I was able to free lift around seventy five pounds with little strain. My musculature doesn't show why, other than being so dense that on x-rays it appears as a haze over my organs. The doctors, not seeing a detrimental effect on me, just dismissed it after giving it some obscure Latin name I can't pronounce. Heh, from then on everyone at the shelter called me 'muscles'. Kinda funny, seeing as I don't show 'em. Anyway, being a hidden brute isn't all sunshine and bunnies, especially when you get to the other part of my life- the recurring night-terrors. Every night, like clockwork, I have a dream of a life not my own. They feature bloody battles, dragons, rock people and other things that can't be real, but are _so vivid_ that they stick in my mind.

And when I say they happen every night? I mean it- for my entire life, since I can remember, I've had them. That, coupled with my strength makes me the outcast in most situations I find myself in.

Even now, at twenty three freakin years old, people still go with the childish schoolyard bulling routine.

Not too often, though, and always around others- don't want to piss off the guy who can throw cars like a Frisbee, eh? Well, they don't know I'm _that _strong, but still.

Aside from the taunting, I have an okay life. I have a well-paying, if menial (My strength is a big help) job at a local warehouse as both mover, and sometimes security. This last shift I got off from was one of my security days, and although they pay better than the crate-moving, they are much more of a pain. The warehouse isn't in the best of neighborhoods- the exact opposite, really. And I have to patrol with only a billy-club and a can of mace. A Taser, if I'm _really_ lucky. So the local gang sees me in my getup, and decides to screw with the 'rent-a-cop'. The worst offender was actually a guy I knew from the orphanage, before we hit the foster care. His name's Luke and he is a 100% grade 'A' asshole. Now, at least; he's around five foot eleven, with me standing at six three- he's gotta mess with the 'big man' I guess... When he was little, he was the quietest kid, shy and kind. Guess he had a harder foster life than I did. Still, no excuse for what he started next.

Here's how the beginning of the worst day ever went down.

"Hey y'all, look at mister copper here! Watchoo gonna do if we tag the joint, eh? Gonna cuff us?" he taunted. Got right up in my face, too; his reeking breath caused me to take a step back. His buddies, seeing me 'backing down' started laughing and adding their own background BS and insults to the issue. I just ignored them, walking around the group to continue my rounds- there was only one entrance, right near the loading bay, so the patrol was, indeed, to stop taggers.

Not that it did; they just waited for a shift change or the night shift, which was inside only. We don't even have outside cameras. Not ones that work anymore, at least.

As I moved away, I felt a wad of _something_ hit the back of my head- they were really getting into it today. Probably thinking I couldn't do anything as they had numbers. Ignoring what was likely garbage running down my neck, I kept going, doing my best to avoid a fight- I hate the paperwork for them. I turned the corner, heading for the door so I could take one of my ten minute bathroom breaks to wash out whatever was in my hair.

Luke followed, continuing to hurl abuse. As I entered the building, he made his biggest mistake- him and his buddies too. They barreled past me, piling into the warehouse, laughing and cackling. This, I had to do something about.

"Hey, you can't be in here! You know that! Listen, I don't give a crap if you tag the place- nobody does. But you all, in here? I'm gonna lose my job, and I like my job. So please leave- go now, and I won't even remember your names or faces."

For reference, this actually happened once before, with a different delinquent group- my offer worked then, and they left. Probably only because the warehouse had almost nothing in it, for the most part. Now? Now the place was _packed_.

So the idiots doubled down.

"Yeah? How you gonna make us, big man?! Seven of us, one of you! You really think you can 'make us' do squat? Eh, pendejo?" By now, his buddies had moved around me- my back was to the now-closed door, so they had me essentially surrounded.

I had it- these idiots had been harassing me on my guard shifts for months, I would deal with the paperwork- these idiots needed brought down a peg. Cracking my neck and knuckles, I rolled my shoulders and set myself into a karate stance. The idiots just laugh, and Luke takes point.

"Ha, idiot! I'm gonna lay you out!"

And he swings. Typical, untrained idiot telephone punch. Seriously, from how he moved? He might as well have said- 'Oh, hey, I'm winding up for a stupidly aimed punch with almost no force behind it, going for your face.'

My answer? 'Okay, I'm gonna put my knee there.'

He swung, and I moved to the side while bringing my knee up, with my arms moving down. For me, I move fast, but with little force behind it.

For a normal person? That meant they were throwing all their force behind it.

The results were immediate and predictable. The dipstick ended up hitting the aluminum side of the warehouse, probably breaking a few fingers, with my knee breaking his elbow a split second later. Luke dropped, clutching his arm and wailing like a newborn. His buddies didn't like that, so the first pair rushed me from the left. Swiveling, I grab the right-most goon's arm at the wrist and elbow and pivot, using his momentum and my strength to toss him in a textbook hip throw to land on top of Luke, eliciting another yelp from him, and a loud curse from the crony I threw. Finishing the motion, I sweep up my left arm, brushing away a poorly done right-jab from the other guy. I go with the age old strategy- KISS.

Keep It Simple, Stupid.

I nail the guy in the jaw, and he drops like a sack of bricks. The other guy is up, but I can't deal with him yet- while I was tossing him and shattering mister glass jaw's consciousness, the other four were approaching. Wanting to hide my strength if I can, I pull my mace out and spray the tiny can into the center-most pair. They go down yelling and clutching their faces, but before I can change the aim to include the others, the can cuts out. Great, empty. My employer couldn't even keep our equipment in good shape. Improvising, I wing the can into one of the remaining pair's faces, distracting him for a second as I trip his friend- he had rushed me in a football tackle, so I moved to the side, matador style, sticking my leg out and causing him to knock his head on the wall- out like a light.

All that was left was the guy from the first pair, and the guy I tossed my empty mace can at. Seeing me take down their five buddies, they were looking for one of two things- a way out, or a way to win.

The guy I had thrown my spray at decided to pull a knife. His buddy grinned like a maniac, like they would win just because the guy pulled a five-inch pocket folder.

Fun fact- my muscles are dense enough that it couldn't penetrate more than an inch in any given spot on my torso or arms. Fun fact number two? Even though I'm incredibly strong, the fact that my muscles are _dense_, not _bulky_, means I'm fast too. Very fast.

Knife-guy rushed me, swinging around like he was trying to imitate a blender. I just watched his arm, and when he got close, I moved. Quicker than he could change the angle on his blade, I grabbed his wrist mid-swing, twisting. A loud crack sounded, and the knife dropped. It hit the ground, and I kicked it off into the warehouse stacks- no pointy object for you.

Irked that they had tried that, I angle the guy's arm while I maneuver behind his back. A loud, sucking and popping noise later, and the guy had a dislocated shoulder to go with his fractured wrist. I pushed him over- he had no more fight. The last guy did the sensible thing- he left out to door I had moved away from. As I turn to the pile of idiots, I hear the last sound I wanted to hear- the drone of the loading dock's main door opening. Next shift's here early.

That means my boss is, too.

I won't bore you with the details- my boss chewed my ass, even though I did my job like I was supposed to. I was sent home, my next shift canceled for now, pending investigation.

All I had to go home to was a microwave dinner and a night-terror. Joy.

At this happy thought, I headed from my boss's office to the lockers. I quickly changed into my civvies, and started the long walk home.

Halfway home, on an old, cracked red brick road, I hear this odd sound- it sounds like chanting, in what appears to be some sort of Slavic tongue. I pay it no mind- peoples music is their business, not mine.

When the world goes white and ice cold? THEN I paid attention.

Wish I hadn't- the night terrors came back, and I had no dream-state to shield myself from the memories.

That _was_ what they were- I could tell that now. The deluge of information began to overcome me, and the last thing I _saw_ before blacking out was a head of platinum blonde hair with striking, beautiful blue eyes.

The last thing to go through my _mind_? The realization that if the terrors really _**were**_ memories, then this was another world- and probably one I was expected to save.

Shit.


	3. Chapter 3- Awakenings and Realizations

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Frozen or whatever manga I got the idea of the 'Hyperion Complex' (The hyper-dense muscles) from- can't remember the name for the life of me.**

**Also, when you come to it, IRL I have my heart in the wrong place. You'll see what I mean.**

**Outsider: Fate of Kingdoms**

_Chapter 3: Awakenings and Realizations_

Elsa stood over the unmoving man she had summoned, her mind awhirl. He didn't look like much, but her powers told her, in the back of her mind, that he wasn't someone to trifle with. Breaking out of her startlement, she calls out for Pabbie, Anna and Kristoff to come over and help her.

"Guys, I could use some help! He's here, but unconscious, and too heavy for me to move him!"

And, belatedly, Elsa noticed one other detail she had missed before. (He _had _appeared just next to her, so she had reason to be startled.)

He was as naked as the day he was born. Blushing madly, she turns away. "WAIT! Pabbie, could you bring a blanket for him, please? He is a bit… underdressed for the weather, if you know what I mean."

Pabbie arrived quickly, carrying not only a thick woolen blanket, but a set of clothes for the man- simple linen things, but better than he had on now. Alas, before he could cover the man, Anna and Kristoff came barging into the clearing.

"Elsa, is everything OK? Kristoff tried to keep me back when you called; but- OHMIGOD HE'S NAKED!"

Kristoff, who had arrived with his eyes averted, answered her screamed announcement. "Yes, Anna, he is. I got that from Elsa's comment. Why do you think I wanted you to wait?!"

His little rebuke did no good, as Anna was still staring at the unconscious man intently. Thankfully, he had already been covered at the waist by Pabbie. Elsa, noticing Anna's intense scrutiny, looked down at the man and was alarmed by what she saw- there was no puff of cold breath from his mouth. He wasn't breathing!

Panic set in, but Elsa fought it off as she knelt by the mystery man and put her head to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. There wasn't one.

Looking up, her now horrified gaze locking with Anna's, she could only whimper out a couple of words.

"Anna, he's dead!"

The reaction was immediate, and predictable. Anna and Kristoff both rush over, Kristoff repeating the actions Elsa had while Anna places a hand near his mouth to feel for air.

Straightening, Kristoff speaks in a hushed tone of fear. "He's not breathing, and his heart's silent!"

Anna, though, frowns at this. "Wait, he IS breathing- it's just cold. I can feel it. Pabbie, what's going on?"

The old troll looks up from clothing the man. "Well, I WAS going to tell you all, but you just rushed over here before I could speak! No, this man is fine, just unconscious from the mental strain of acquiring another lifetime worth of memories."

Giving the ever-inquisitive Anna a glare to stifle the incoming flood of questions, he continues. "The Judges have their bodies backwards from the layout of a human- the heart is on the right, for example, that's why you couldn't hear any heartbeat. And as for the temperature? He could, in all honesty, stand _in_ the frozen Fjord waters for an hour and not feel chilled in the slightest. The same for the other extreme- Judges are quite durable."

The flood of information stunned the trio, and a few moments of silence passed before anyone spoke. Kristoff was the one to speak first.

"Pabbie, while he can't feel the cold, Anna and I can, and we would like to take him back to the castle for when he awakens. I have my sleigh here, so is it OK to move him?"

The old troll looks at Kristoff and laughs. "Yes, it is indeed safe to move him, but I doubt you can. He's as heavy as any Troll! I'll ask Bulda to help me move him, we can manage it."

Full of disbelief, Anna looks down at the tall, unassuming man. "There's no way he can weigh that much! I mean yeah, he's ripped and handsome like wow, wait, what? Gah! Anyway, he can't be _that_ heavy!"

Ignoring her outburst and suiting action to words, Anna moves to the side of the mystery man and grabs his arm, pulling.

She achieves absolutely nothing. She tries again, this time slipping on the rocky ground and was only saved from a bruised rear by an attentive Kristoff catching her.

Amusedly, Pabbie speaks again. "Do you see what I mean now? His muscles aren't large, but they are dense, like stone. He's very heavy because of that. Ah, here comes Bulda. Let's get you all to the castle now, yes?"

Nods of agreement went around, and soon they had packed the stranger in the sleigh and were on their way back to Arendelle Castle.

The ride went fast, with few words exchanged due to nerves. After arriving at the castle, they move the mystery man to the dungeons, as they were easiest to get to and had 'beds' (really just cot mattresses on stone slabs) that could support the man without collapsing. Laying him there, and covering him with the blanket from earlier, they left with strict orders to the guard to alert them if he started to awaken. The group moved to the castle proper, settling down into a meeting room to wait. Elsa broke the silence with a question that had been bugging her.

"Grand Pabbie, I know you said he was our desperate measure, but I wonder; how is he going to fix this situation? I really should have asked this before summoning him, but it seemed a bit… frivolous."

Pabbie, standing near the fireplace as a chair wouldn't hold him, replied with a humorless smile. "Elsa, I don't have a clue. Part of the Judge's existence is the magic that shows them what they were summoned for; they have said that is outlines courses of action for them, but they had to choose which one to follow."

Taking a bracing breath, not liking what he had to relate, the elderly troll continued. "Many times, the option they chose was bloody; many died; especially when the Fifth Judge was called; they call him the Last Judgment for a reason, Elsa."

Giving her a grave stare, he finished. "He could easily negotiate a truce, open up a cleft in the earth itself to stop them, or even _join_ them for all I know; all I can say is he will do what HE thinks, and feels, is right. All we can really do is hope it is for our benefit."

The group exchanges fearful, worried glances. Even though no words were spoken, it was obvious what thought they had.

'What will he do?'

**Outsider: Fate of Kingdoms**

I awoke to a massive headache, and an equally sizable mental conundrum. I had memories I hadn't had before; I could remember two different childhoods, two different lives. It scared me, more than it really should have. After getting used to my new thoughts and ideas (experiences really do shape a person) I finally dredged up the courage to open my eyes and see what level of insanity I had been summoned into now. Gah, mental dissonance is a bitch. Summoning? Well, that's obviously magic. In my old/second world? Magic was a fairy tale, not real. So, the idea that I was yanked from a magic-less place, via magic, gave me one hell of a mental short circuit, not that they would know what a circuit was, in this world. Finally brushing it off as well as I could, I look around the whitewashed stone room I found myself in. I was lying down on a comfortable cot, covered in a couple of rough-spun wool blankets to ward off the cold. There was a small window in the wall my cot was against, too small to get out through, and covered by wrought-iron bars to boot. The door, however, was solid wood reinforced by steel bands- this was a room meant to hold someone.

I made the logical conclusion. I was in jail.

Great. Barely resisting the urge to smash my way out, I move around to see if my body had changed in any way to come into this new world. Everything felt alright, and looked familiar, too. All the way down to the small scar on my left hand from a knife wound- I was still me. Outwardly.

Only one more thing to check. Putting my hand on my chest, I move it left to feel for a heartbeat. Nothing.

Now, at this point, you would guess I would freak out- no heartbeat, no living. Not me- I was born backwards, and this apparently carried over here, as well. In my 'old' world, it was known as 'Dextrocardia Situs Inversus', or simply being born with your internal organs flipped. My new memories supplied that it was because of my heritage that I'm this way.

Aaaand mental lockup once again. One of five powerful beings, those born from a god's _essence_ of all things? Oh lord, what the HELL does mistress Fate have against me? Wait, don't answer that- the door's opening, and I don't want to tempt her too much.

With a loud groan speaking of aged hinges with too little oil, the door swings outwards into the hall, revealing my two visitors. I blinked, and could come up with only two thoughts.

One was 'Wow, must be medieval times- guard's carrying a broadsword and a crossbow.'

The second one was less cerebral and a bit crass. 'Who is that beautiful blonde? Is she single?'

Promptly skewering my inner pervert, I clear my head as the guard walk in ahead of the woman, who I now recognize as the one I saw a flash of when I arrived. Taking in more details, I make another connection- she's royalty, probably the queen.

Crowns usually help in pointing out that particular detail.

Scrambling to my feet, I give her a half-bow, guided by memories both strange and familiar. Straightening, I smile and introduce myself.

"Greetings, my queen. Nice to see the one who summoned me came at just the right time to see me awaken! My name's Mathias, may I ask yours?"

The guard had stiffened at my almost casual speech, but the Queen seemed almost comforted by it. Cool, someone who isn't a stuck-up noble. Ah, wait- she's replying.

"Well met, Mathias. My name is Elsa, and I would like it if you used that rather than calling me 'Queen' or 'milady', I find that the titles are a bit stuffy. Are you feeling well? The troll who helped me with the summoning told me that having your memories would possibly cause some… issues."

Giving her a tight smile and ignoring the guard for the moment, I reply. "Well, I have one MOTHER of a headache, but that's fading fast. The mixed memories of my past in this world and my… old world are causing some issues, but I'm getting past them well enough. Now, I know this might be a bit rude, but why was I summoned? From what I remember, the ritual usually imbues the Judge with an understanding of the situa- Oh. There it is." The information had hit me even as I spoke, and my eyes must have glazed over as the ancient magic informed me of the situation and what could be done about it.

Massive invading army? Check.

Homicidal intentions to the Queen here, just because of her powers? Double check, really starting to think the reason I was brought here was a good one.

Possible ways to stop them before I showed up? Wow, only one, and I can see why the Queen chose to summon me rather than attack the army herself. Nobody should have to do that as a monarch- all it'll do is engender fear and hate, and simply keep the cycle going, not to mention the trauma it would cause her.

And now that I'm here, the number of possible solutions goes up to only two. The original, which isn't an option, and me.

By myself.

Against an invading army.

WHAT!?


	4. Chapter 4- FISH and CHIPS

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Frozen or any elements of other franchises I may use in here! **

**Outsider: Fate of Kingdoms**

_Chapter 4: F.I.S.H. and C.H.I.P.S._

My shock must have shown on my face as Elsa and the guard backed away a bit. I didn't think I was _that_ intimidating, but I guess a huge dose of shock, horror and anger from resurfacing memories would show up pretty vividly via my facial expressions.

Also, I admit- I was horrified to remember doing such a thing before. My 'old' self, the previous Judge incarnation, would have had no second thoughts at all, but with my 'new' memories, the thought was nauseating. Well, at least I have two different lifetimes of experience in shaking off shock to fall back on. Steadying myself so I don't fall over, I give the Queen a small, bleak smile that I could tell scares her.

"Sorry, just got through the information. It triggered a recall of some… past happenings that I wasn't really prepared to handle; I'm fine now, though."

I could see in her eyes that she wanted me to tell her what I was going to do, but I couldn't handle it right now, so I changed the subject.

"It takes a great deal of power to breach the dimensions like that- normally the ritual is weeks long to pull power from the world itself, but you powered it yourself with just a gesture! That's really amazing. We judges have come across some people and beings with great powers, but you might be in the top ten in terms of raw power."

As I state this, I could read the expressions crossing her face; I admit, I was pushing some buttons. I had to, really; I had no clue about who she was as a person, and before I could decide on whether to help or not, I had to know more. Her face had a series of expressions, and _boy _did they tell a story. First was confusion; she hadn't figured out what I was getting at, not at first. It quickly changed to curiosity; she was wondering why it had taken so long and was drawing conclusions. This told me she was intelligent, a thinker, not a rash person to summon a powerful being on a whim to 'magically' fix her problems; good. What was most telling, though, was her reaction to the compliment; at first, she was shy but accepting, a good thing. It showed that she was modest, and not a person to flaunt her powers or rule through them, something that raised my respect for her more than a little.

Hearing _just_ how powerful she was? That led a well-hidden expression of terror across her visage for a split second, and that reaction told me more than all the others had. Even though she was accepting of her powers NOW, something had happened at one point to make her fear them, and she was still worried about them at some level. Her instinctive flinch had her putting her hands up as she crossed her arms, hiding her hands- something to do with physical touch, or the casting of the magic via the hands, then.

Filing away my observations, I continue in a different vein. "Well, that is neither here nor there. What you want to hear about is how I'm supposed to help you. Well, unfortunately, the Judge magic has presented only two options- the one available to you before you summoned me, and…. well, what almost sent me catatonic a minute ago."

Looking around the bleak cell, I realized that we were holding such an important conversation in a very dismal place. We had to change that, now didn't we?

Shaking my head as though to clear it, I look back to Elsa and the guard, making it clear that I spoke to them both, although my words were more for Elsa. "Well, I will certainly fill you in on the details, but if I may make the suggestion? Would it be suitable to you if we moved this conversation somewhere less, well, depressing? As much as I like the 'dungeon interrogation' theme, I don't think it suits you, Elsa."

She looks at me incredulously for a moment before a smile creeps onto her face, quickly becoming a small chuckle. "I do suppose that it _is_ a bit dreary down here, isn't it? Well, Anna and Kristoff, who you haven't met yet, are waiting for us back in the council room. Would you like to join us for a meal there while we discuss…" Here, a grimace of distaste mars her otherwise beautiful features, "Business? It would be a good place to start."

Giving a formal bow, deep enough to show respect, but not so deep as to be mocking, I straighten with a smile. "That would be lovely, Elsa."

Gesturing to the guard, she and I leave the cell, heading up the stairs to the castle proper. As we ascend the stone steps, we make some small talk.

"This… war has been going on for longer than open warfare has. Weasel-town had sent assassins after Anna and I, and for the longest time they failed. One finally manages to injure Anna before I captured him, and his interrogation is the reason open warfare was called. Sometimes I wish the council had simply called for censure towards weasel-town, but it's too late for that now. That's how this happened, anyway. Even now, they send men in advance to infiltrate the castle; I've fought off three attempts in the last two weeks. It's painful to feel as though your own home could harbor a murderer."

Wow, Elsa's small talk is a bit depressing. "Well, Elsa, if all goes well nobody will try anything any longer. And I can promise that you are safe with me; I am siding with you, after all."

This brings a bit of cheer back to her face. As we climb the last few stairs, we come to a closed, wooden door that causes Elsa to frown. "Odd, this door is never closed- it leads to an antechamber before the meeting room." As she speaks, she goes to try the handle- it rattles, but doesn't budge, and her eyes narrow. "Locked. Something's up- we need to get in there, _NOW!_" She raises her hand, probably to blast the door, but I step in front of her, causing her to pause.

"Please, allow me."

I plant a textbook perfect thrust-kick to the door, applying around half my full strength to it so I don't just put a leg-sized hole in it.

Instead, it rips clean off its hinges and goes flying across the room, landing in a great crash against a bookshelf. The shock of the door being blasted off causes the men in the room to pause for a moment, and that's all it takes for me to take a tally of them and go to work.

Memories of combat from both lives streaming through the back of my mind, I count three men, all armed with swords, one with a crossbow as well. Him I mentally mark as a priority- not a threat to me, but ice has to be pretty thick to stop a bolt, and Elsa would likely have trouble pulling a wall up that fast. Luckily, none of the three were too far away. I launch myself across the room in a sort of leap- half crouched, pushing off with your feet, not your legs themselves- and end up face to face with one of the assassins- that is what they had to be, dressed in black with hoods hiding their features.

Taking advantage of his startlement, I grab his wrist and squeeze, the bones shattering like fine china under a sledgehammer, his sword falling into my waiting hand. Without a thought to limiting my strength, I haul down on the arm, sending him slamming face first into the floor with a sickening cracking noise- either a smashed skull or broken neck- dead either way. Flicking my gaze to the next target, I see Elsa has him well in hand- fling icicles at him, freezing the floor so he slips constantly, she doesn't need my help. My gaze goes to the last man, and as I feared, he's drawn a bead on Elsa while she's distracted. As he brings the crossbow to bear, I grip the sword hard enough to dent my handprint into the steel pommel, and rush him, swinging into a wild, undisciplined overhand swing as I do. It wouldn't win me style points, but it would either kill the guy or at least make him miss Elsa.

Turns out, he didn't have good enough reflexes to dodge. The old, rusty and dull sword I had appropriated from the man on the ground looked like it had been used for chopping wood- any real swordsman would have laughed at it and figured it could at most break an arm, being too dull to slice more than bare skin.

They didn't have my strength behind the swing. The cleaving stroke hit the man just on the clavicle, and the swing continued through the entirety of his torso, the force not so much cutting him as ripping him open. Blood splatter erupted; the foul smell of breached bowel filled the air as the man fell to the floor in two uneven pieces, his crossbow dropping from nerveless fingers as he fell. Scooping it up without a thought, I sight in on the last man- Elsa had him on the ropes, but I had seen the door to the main room was closed as well; we had no time to waste taking prisoners. Elsa froze his feet to the ground just as I pulled the trigger- the bolt flew true and pierced him just over the heart- a fatal wound. He slumped over awkwardly, the ice keeping his feet upright.

Elsa tossed me this look of anger, and looked about to burst into a tirade about how I shouldn't have killed him. I cut her off.

"Elsa, we don't have time. The other door's locked too, so we've got to get in there, NOW!" Suiting action to words, I walk over to the door, blunt sword still in my hand. I couldn't just bash this one open. Well, I could; it was identical to the first one, but the point was that it could hit Anna or Kristoff, whoever they are, and I didn't want that to happen.

Bracing myself, I shove my hands into the wood of the door with my back behind the blow; the aged oak splinters, and I get good purchase against the iron bands across the middle. I brace one leg on the wall next to the door and heave inwards, the door ripping off in a squeal of strained metal. Sliding my hands free, I dash into the room and come across a comical sight; a blonde mountain of a man sitting on a duo of groaning men, while a reindeer of all things is sitting on two more like a trained dog.

That wasn't the oddest part, though. A fiery redhead who had similar features to Elsa was wailing on a large assassin who was tied up on a chair with a lute.

Granted, she wasn't swinging too hard, not wanting to kill him, but still- a ludicrous scene.

I just stood there, dumbstruck. The man waved to me, while the reindeer just bounced in place like a hyperactive puppy- I felt sorry for the guys he was on top of.

Elsa walked in, and I could tell that she wasn't as confused by the scene as I was; guess they had foiled similar attempts, so this wasn't all new.

She caught the redhead's attention with a quick comment. "Anna, please don't concuss the poor man, he's in enough trouble already. Kristoff, Sven, thanks for helping. Everyone, this is Mathias, the Judge."

Well, now they're all staring. Yay. "Should I do a trick or something? No offense, but you all staring is kinda off-putting."

The man- Kristoff- cleared his throat and gestured to me with a raised eyebrow. "Well, it's not every day that a man literally rips a door off its hinges and barges into a room covered in blood."

I look down at myself and grimace; yech. "Yeah, good point. Anyway, from the way the men acted, I think this was all of them. We should have the guards come get them, and I should go get cleaned up before we continue. We still have a conversation to get too, after all."

Elsa, still a bit off from the things she had just witnessed me do, just nodded and sent me to a servant who had just arrived alongside a complement of guards, drawn by the noise. I was in turn directed to a small guestroom bath area, where I cleaned myself up and changed into the clothes provided. Refreshed from the quick bath, I followed the servant to a small room off the main dining hall. Walking in, I see Anna and Kristoff were already seated. Anna looks up and gestures to a free seat, and I slide into it, testing my weight before I commit to it. The chair groans, but holds. Looking up from the chair, I'm greeted by Anna right there in my face; I may have squeaked a bit.

"Hi! My name's Anna and I have SO many questions for you! How did you do that with the door? Oh, what was with the guy in two pieces and stuff? Oh, what do you remember from your old life?"

I must have looked as blank as I felt at the onslaught of questions, but Kristoff came to my rescue. "Anna, ask one thing at a time, don't overwhelm the poor fellow!"

She just sticks her tongue out at him. Feisty little thing, huh?

Well, Elsa takes that moment to enter and take her place, and the servants place out the food. Simple, tasty fare is the menu, and I'm glad. The obscene wastes of food at banquets were always a source of disdain for the old me, and still are apparently. After eating a bit and making small talk- real small talk, not venting about the cause of the war, Elsa finally gets down to the issue.

"Mathias, I do hate to pressure you on this, but we have only three days before the army is here. How are you going to help us?"

Whelp, time for some military humor that fits the situation perfectly.

"Well, Elsa, I'm going to have you evacuate the town into the castle, having them bring essentials with them like food, but not much else. Then, I'm going to let the army into the town while the home guard holds the castle bridges. After that, I'm going to engage in some Fish and Chips."

The utterly blank stares make me crack up laughing- I never was too good at deadpan. Elsa gives me this glare that is supposed to be intimidating, but it just makes her look hot. Gah, mind out of the gutter, Mathias. Time to explain myself before Elsa goes off, I guess.

"No, Elsa, I'm not screwing around. Not completely. F.I.S.H. and C.H.I.P.S. are acronyms. I just said that I'm going to attack the army as it sets in for a siege, ambush style. F.I.S.H. standing for Fighting is Somebody's House, while C.H.I.P.S. stands for Causing Havoc in People's Streets. I'm going to terrorize them, become the specter they fear at night. I can cause some serious damage- if they don't clear out, I could potentially decimate their force in two weeks, and you should be able to hold out at least that long, holed up here in the castle."

Putting my tableware down, I adopt a serious look. "There _will_ be damage to the town; maybe a lot. But the _people_ make the town, not the buildings. It's either this, or… well, this."

I could see the gears turning- she was seriously considering approving it. "That sounds like a viable tactic, Mathias. But, won't you need help, or places to hide?"

I favor her with a smirk. "My returning memories showed me that I can go months without sleep, and I can rest inside snowdrifts and such if I have to- the cold doesn't bother me. I would ask you to sweep a small blizzard in at night while I work, though- it'll help keep me hidden and add to the demoralization. Oh, and food's not an issue- I can steal it from the invaders, no problem. No, what I need most is some armor and a weapon for the work. Platemail would work well- I don't have issues with the weight, and sound's not an issue in a blizzard. No, the issue lies in getting me a suitable weapon for the job. Swords shatter or break, bows or crossbows aren't my specialty, and most clubs or maces deform or break when I use them. They also are too… run of the mill; I want to scare the army out of Arendelle. If possible, I would ask for something that might seem odd, and more than a bit over the top."

The curious look Anna had before has propagated to the others; Elsa motions me to go on.

"Well, the Trolls can form things from rock, right? And some rock is harder than metal. Much harder. If I could ask you to get them to listen to my request, that would be much appreciated."

Elsa nods, already thinking about how to approach Pabbie with the request, but Anna is still on the scent of WHAT I want made.

"Mathias, you still haven't told us what weapon you want! Spit it out already."

I favor them all with a cruel, humorless smile that they blanch at. "I would like to request a War Maul."

**A/N: I credit another author with using military acronyms; I just happen to like this British one I'm using in this story. Also, in this story, a War Maul is usually only used to break down doors in a castle proper if a ram isn't around. Generally a large block of stone affixed to a wooden handle reinforced by iron banding, it usually is far too cumbersome to wield in battle due to the weight and encumbrance. And Mathias wants a larger-than-life sized one made out of solid stone.**

**Rock on.**


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